“Learning to Say No”

February 28, 2019

Leaf skeletons, wool roving, dandelion seeds, honey locust thorns

9.5”h x 12”w x 12”d

This nest/shelter is also made from leaf skeletons, but ones that have been boiled and bleached to highlight the inner structure. I wanted to play with the idea of something being so open and fragile looking, still being a place of refuge.

I have always been the person that will stop everything I am doing in order to help someone else, putting everyone’s needs in front of my own. I am the stranger on the bus or park bench you tell your deepest fear, longing, and secret dream too, and then wonder why you divulged. The co-worker who you shared a frustration with and then secretly leaves a chocolate bar on your desk. The friend who sees your soul, tastes your dreams, and tries behind the scenes to make them all come true. I am also the one who has never felt that their own dreams, wishes, desires, and longings were worth as much as yours.

This nest has a feeling of permeability, but still has a dry and safe space inside. The inner nest is made from wool roving that is lined with dandelion ‘wishes.’ Wool roving is the fiber ready for spinning. I chose this to symbolize that state of potential, of possibility. I used the dandelion seeds to line the nest because as children we didn’t think twice about the ease of dreaming and sending those big ideas out onto the wind to become possibilities with the power of our own breath.

This nest sits on a platform of honey locust thorns, creating contrast between its seemingly fragile nature and its ability to stand strong among the thorns. I know that I can still be that person to listen and hold the dreams of others in a sacred space, but I have to learn to say, “No,” and know that it is OK to do so. That I can put my dreams first, make time for me, and trust in my own worth.